Shattered
by Colorpencil-Kity
Summary: Her heart of glass shatters with a crash, and this time she's not sure she can pick up all the pieces. Angsty oneshot. Pre-TLH Jeyna


_**A/N: Two fanfics in a week. Needless to say, I'm amazed. Must be the holiday spirit getting to me. Anyways, just another angsty Jeyna. I forgot to do this before, so thank you all of my reviewers, you really made my day. Enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: As usual, I'm a GIRL! who's pretty sure she doesn't own PJO. All rights go to Rick Riordan  
**_

**Shattered**

* * *

You break,splinter_,_and fall, tears and mud streaming down your face. You scream and wail, your knees tightly pulled to your chest, as if it is the only thing anchoring you to Earth, to your_ sanity._ Your life is two colors, always the same, always haunting you. The crimson stains and scarlet are forever encrypted in your memory, echoing screams filling your mind. The putrid smell of death is still fresh , the darkness and despair always tugging at your soul, threatening to pull you under. You squeeze your eyes shut, as if to block out the noise, but the image only grows more clear in your mind, the images of death, of loss, of war. You wonder why you are cursed, why, you, of all daughters of war must hold this burden, holding on your shoulders each cry of horror, each wail, each scream. You crumble under the pressure at the tender age of six, hoping, believing, that someday, somehow, an unknown grace may save you.

* * *

You hold your head up high, biting your cracked lips, your tears always threatening to fall, holding the pieces of your heart in your shaking hands, always threatening to drop. You are Reyna, you are _queen_ , and queens did not break, did not crack. You block yourself off, remaining cool, collected, in control. (Or so it seems) You appear to the world with a mask on your face, a mask of perfection, emotionless, cold, holding your head up high so it might not fall off. Your patience is running low, your mask slipping, waiting for that undeniable grace. You remember the suffering and pain, slowly shaking your head, and give up.

(It is a slow, barely noticeable difference, feeling yourself slowly deteriorating inside, crumbling, breaking. You shakily pick up the shards of your heart and drop them, the sharp crash haunting you forever.)

* * *

When you meet the boy with the sky blue eyes and golden hair, you think nothing of him. He is no more than another shadow, another slight interaction, an exchange of words, someone, no, _something_ that will simply disappear after a period of time. When he challenges you to a fight, a twinkle in his eye, you feel a strange attraction to him and comply. He is on the ground in the blink of an eye, and you smile for the first time in years. Interesting. He scrambles to his feet, his hand shooting out in a gesture that your sure means you have to shake it. You do, slowly, cautiously, and look at him with what must be a horrified look on your face because he laughs.

"I`m Jason Grace. You?"

Your face pales, and all your capable of doing is stare at him, before doing what you do best. Run. His words echo in your head. _Grace.  
_

He comes back the next day to apologize. You slam the door in his face. He jokes around. You keep a straight face. He offers to train with you. You slap him. He asks if you want to go get some ice cream. You respond by punching him in the arm. Hard. He never gives up. You already have.

He asks if you want to talk. Just talk. You raise an eyebrow suspiciously but let him in. Little do you know, it is the smartest move of your life.

He's different from all the other boys, no _people_, you've ever met. He listens more than he talks, makes you smile, accepts you for who you are, removes your mask and admires _your _face, not the emotionless piece of metal exposed to the world. He breaks down your walls, removing each brick cautiously,until you are fully exposed. When you are both rewarded the titles of preator, he is rewarded with one of your few smiles. When he holds your hand for the first time, you reach down with shaky hands and pick up a tiny shard of your heart. It's a start.

* * *

The Titan War will always be the best and worst summer of your life. You remember the tears and broken bodies lying on the ground, the blood, the horror. And the kiss. It is unexpected, surprising, out of the blue, in other words, life. You remember everything from that moment. The coppery taste of blood, the shredded remains of his shirt, the beating of your own heart, his rapid breathing, the sharp taste of horror, his lips. The war is won, and the next year is the best of your life. You have friends, you have hope, you have _Jason_.

(You wonder what the Venus girls whisper when you walk past with him next to you. What their murmuring voices and high pitched giggles mean. You dismiss it. )

He asks you on a date. You hesitate, and refuse. You try not to notice the hurt look on his face. He tries reaching for your hand in New Rome, you redden and snatch it away. He tries again,and again. You still blush, still hesitate, but begin to open up, in body, mind,and heart.

* * *

He disappears. You shatter.

(Your cracked and splintered heart of glass, put together hastily by shaking hands, is wrenched from your grasp, shattering into a million pieces. This time your not sure if you can pick them backup.)

* * *

**A/N: Is that angsty enough for ya? R&R! Sorry, no cookies. I ate them all. :)**


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